51: Dobby is free!

[3rd Pov]

Alaric was used to attention, be it for his family's name, his weird reputation for being a popular, but mysterious student who generally kept to himself and his close circle while engaging in some rule-breaking activities with known troublemakers, — which perfectly described him in his friends' opinion —, his unusually high grades, possibly the best ever achieved in the school apart from a certain student from fifty years ago, or even his good looks, something he was quite proud of seeing as he had a particular morning routine he strictly followed to groom himself — after all, people tended to notice the appearance first rather than the heart.

Swaying people was all too easy when you were pretty to look at.

But never his in life was he expecting this many eyes on him as he walked to the Great Hall. As the saying goes, the Hogwarts rumours mill never stops spinning. All that was needed was a whisper or a pair of prying ears, perhaps an accidental eavesdrop. It was all wind, and wind is what a mill needs the most. Nothing but a whisper and everybody and their mothers knew that, somehow, Alaric Grindelwald had killed a Basilisk in his second year! — "and" Professor Lockhart.

The sceptics were confused now. Was he a dark wizard for killing the Basilisk, or was he a hero for confronting the Basilisk with no one but Lockhart? Quite a conundrum.

To say he had never seen such a feast as big as this one was a misunderstanding. All types of food were present on the table. Roast chicken, Shepherd's pie, Beef stew, Turkey legs, Pumpkin pasties, Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, Mashed potatoes, Gravy, Roast ham, Corn on the cob, Treacle tart, and — ah, his favourite — Chocolate éclairs.

"You sure do love your sweets," commented Tracey, but Alaric knew she was just jealous he could eat as much as he wanted and not get fat — Thank Merlin for his exercise routine.

Alaric couldn't care less about what was happening around him at the moment. McGonagall was trying to shoo away the students, probably because the exams were near. Hagrid had gotten drunk after drinking unhealthy amounts of fire whisky and was now running around the long tables with his fluffy tie around his head. The headmaster and Snape were engaged in a hushed conversation, casually looking at the silver-haired boy who was stuffing his mouth with éclairs.

Gryffindor's table was the most lively. The victims had already been cured, and the snake monster had been killed. A shame it was their Rival House's celebrity rather than theirs.

"How do you reckon he's done it?" asked Ron, stuffing a turkey leg in his mouth. His question had placed all of the group in deep thought.

"Luck, I'd say," Hermione thought that it was the most plausible answer. "It's not possible for a second-year like us to face a creature as dangerous as the Basilisk," She then turned to Lysandra. "Your brother is extremely lucky to be alive. Going alone into the chamber — that's just reckless,"

Lysandra scoffed. "You don't even know the story, yet you're trying to correct his actions. Do you really think he would enter the Chamber alone? Don't tell me you believe all that Lockhart nonsense. As if you'd have done any better, Hermione," She knew her friend's words weren't meant to be hurtful, but the last thing Lysandra wanted to hear was Hermione's blabbering.

"Speaking of which, is he alright?" Hope asked, sneaking a glance at Alaric, now engaged in a serious conversation with Daphne.

"Why do you care?" Harry arched an eyebrow, and Lysandra and Hermione suppressed their laughter.

"Oh, um, no particular reason," Hope replied softly, her ears tinged with a blush.

Meanwhile on the Slytherin table...

"So... Boggarts?"

"A lot of them,"

Alaric had been putting off this conversation for a while now, but the time had finally come to lay out what had occurred a few weeks prior, and why the necklace he got from the Vault of Ice suddenly changed.

"You see, last year, the pendant reacted with something within the restricted section," He said, interlacing his fingers, and looking directly into her blue eyes. "At first, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me, but when I tried to investigate it again this year, the glow appeared once more. I'll admit it took me more time to open the vault than I'd like to," Alaric scratched the back of his head as he said the last bit.

He spent the rest of the feast explaining to his partner in crime how he was able to open the vault. How he had to spend weeks rearranging old tomes and scrolls in different orders with the hope one of the combinations would allow him entry, only to find out vanishing all of the tomes would reveal the vault door.

"Hmm... The Vault of Fear," Daphne muttered.

"What?"

"I mean, a Vault hidden within the walls of the scary restricted section, a dozen Boggarts, each carrying a mysterious curse that caused some passersby to sleepwalk, and, after some time, convulse as if they were in fear? Then there's the spell. 'Terrorvolo', you called it? I'd argue my reasoning is pretty straightforward,"

After a few more minutes of discussion, Alaric let out a chuckle.

"Pretty talkative, aren't you?" he flashed a smile, his pearly-white teeth shining like bright stars by the candlelight. "I noticed you haven't been holding your Occlumency up like you used to,"

Daphne returned the smile. "It's because I can be my true self whenever I'm with you,"

"I'm flattered," Alaric chuckled, trying to keep a poker face after hearing such a declaration, but the small rosy tint in his cheeks told what he was feeling. And Daphne didn't miss it, celebrating her triumph silently, muffled by the laughter and echoes of the feast.

Unfortunately for her, nearby, a pretty redhead had seen everything that happened and didn't like it one bit. Daphne's second attempt at flirting, unbeknownst to her, had been the spark for future problems.

__________

The day the Quidditch House Cup champion would be decided arrived. Spirits were high for the game between Slytherin and Gryffindor, where even the other houses' students had a certain excitement building up for the game. The crowd that had gathered for the match was enormous, far surpassing any other final match the school had ever seen.

Why was that?

Well, to celebrate the discovery of the Chamber of Secrets and the extermination of the monster within, the headmaster and vice-headmaster decided it would do good to show to the magical community that Hogwarts was safe again.

Due to this, a crowd composed of not only students but also outsiders had taken sit in the Quidditch stadium. It was a fantastical sight. The stadium had been magically expanded to accommodate a large number of viewers, the benches towering over the pitch, and not a single one of these viewers lacked their favourite house's colour.

Each professor was assigned a strategic spot to keep the crowd in control in case any altercation broke out.

Seeing as people from all walks of life were present, the governors of Hogwarts themselves were as well, and one in particular, with long slicked-back blonde hair, was about to have the headache of the century right before the match started.

"Mr Malfoy," someone called for Lucius right before he entered the stadium's stairs. He let out an annoyed breath and signalled for his wife to continue walking and his house-elf, Dobby, to stay, while the man turned around to face the one who was insolent enough to bother him.

However, his annoyed visage quickly morphed into a surprised one, and then, a smile formed on his lips.

"Alaric Grindelwald. The man of the moment," he said. He sized him up, watching how his green Quidditch robes fluttered against the wind. The boy's silvery-blonde hair was styled between his ears, and he lacked any real padding to protect him, probably for more speed, Lucius thought. "For what do I owe this pleasure...?"

"I simply wished to talk," Alaric responded with adequate pure-blood etiquette in his movements, his eyes never leaving Lucius's own. "And to return something,"

From within his robes, a barely recognizable notebook came out in Alaric's hands. Calling it a book or diary would be a stretch, as the object barely passed as a lump of burned leather and left-over parchment.

Lucius stared at it for a few seconds before quickly snatching the lump away. "Take it!" He hissed at Dobby who recoiled but grabbed what was left of Riddle's diary. Dobby glanced over at Alaric and bowed in gratitude, but instead of the sympathetic look he was expecting, he tilted his head in confusion as he saw the smirk plastered on the boy's face.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He clutched the railing and the elf came hurrying up to him, earning a kick across his back up the stairs, making Dobby squeal in pain.

"It's good to know you're a Quidditch fan, Mr. Malfoy, but I'll need my glove back," Alaric called out right before Lucius went up the stairs.

Now, instead of being annoyed, Lucius Malfoy looked back at the boy with a confused face. His face then lost all of its colour as he spotted the burned diary still in Alaric's hand. Appalled, he snatched the diary from the boy's hand, this time for good, and walked up the stairs again.

"Playing games with me wasn't your brightest of ideas, Mr Grindelwald. Even with all your wit, you're still the offspring of a failure of a Dark Lord. Despicable," Lucius spat. "Come Dobby. Come!"

Alaric clenched his fists and chuckled ominously, pretending to ignore the insult.

"But in the end, you were still fooled by someone as shameful as me," he whispered loud enough for the Lord of House Malfoy to hear.

Turning back once again, and hopefully for the last time, Lucius's eyes were filled with rage. "What did you say to me, boy?!" he snarled, only to notice that his elf was stuck in place, eyes wide as he stared at the glove in his hands. "What's that? Where did you get that?" he yelled.

"Got a glove," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master gave it to me, and Dobby caught it. And now Dobby — Dobby is free!"

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen as he stared at the elf. Then, he quickly unholstered his wand and pointed it at Alaric, who just smiled.

"You've lost me my servant, boy!" His lips started moving, evoking a spell, but Alaric remained unmoving, still with the same serene expression.

"You shall not harm the kind Alaric!" Dobby shouted. There was a loud bang, and Mr Malfoy was thrown backwards. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below that supported one of the stadium pillars.

He got up, his face livid, and tried to grab his wand, but Alaric already had his own pressing against the Lord's neck. "I think this conversation is over," he said. "Don't you agree, Mr Malfoy?"

Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight. "Mark my words," he yelled from afar. "This is far from over!"

"Sure. Enjoy your gift," Alaric muttered. From behind Mr Malfoy's coat, a large rat's tail grew in size, to the point it dragged along the muddied steel steps.

Alaric sighed and looked at Dobby who was jumping around in euphoria.

"Dobby is free! Dobby is free! Alaric freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Alaric, sunlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. "Alaric set Dobby free!"

"Least I could do, Dobby," Alaric said gently. "Sorry for forcing myself onto your mind like that, but I was short on time,"

"Alaric doesn't need to worry. Dobby is very happy he was of help!" the elf said with relish.

"Right," Alaric said with a weak smile. "Anyways, there's a game I got to win, so if you don't mind, I'll be going,"

Dobby threw his arm up and saluted as Alaric walked away. "Alaric Grindelwald is far greater than the rumours Dobby knew. Farewell, scary friend!"

And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.

**********

A/N:

-> Terrorvolo (Ancient Magic) = Hyper-realistic nightmare-inducing spell;

-> The spell that actually killed the Basilisk will be discussed next chapter.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!